Whenever, Wherever You Are
by Microraptor Glider
Summary: Barry thinks the thing you can't outrun is pain. Harrison Wells is about to discover that it really is yourself.


Ok, so I have so many Wells theories. Or rather I have one Wells theory, but it is really in depth and has served me well. I have decided to share the theory, so this scene developed as a a potential (albeit unlikely) scene for... a certain episode. It will be fairly obvious which one. Though the scene itself may not happen in the episode, I believe fullheartedly believe in the theories explored here. Whether or not you agree with my theories though, I hope you enjoy the story anyways.

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><p>STAR Labs' fluorescent lights seemed dark or at least darker than usual. Their glow clung to the shadows, and through these shadows Harrison Wells moved to his sanctuary. His hand rested steady on the wheel chair's controls, but a frown creased his face.<p>

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Harrison's lips parted, and a sigh escaped. For anyone else, the gesture would barely qualify as an exhale, but Harrison had struggled to keep that pocket of air inside of him all throughout his meeting with Cisco, Caitlin, and Barry. The empty hallway reverberated with the disturbance. Harrison could feel many more sighs swelling up inside him. The wheelchair was too slow, Cisco and Caitlin too uninformed, Barry too untrained, and the time until he reached his destination too long.

Harrison took a deep breath. All of these things existed for a reason.

One creates the greatest hero that ever lived through careful planning and sacrifice, and Harrison had long ago started implementing measures to slow his thoughts and ensure he considered every angle. Though the wheelchair had not originally served this purpose, it did the job, and Harrison could not blame it for its lack of speed. He consciously relaxed the muscles in his back, torso, legs, and then feet. Careful thoughts not instinctive reactions had carried him this far; they will ensure Barry Allen's survival.

As much as he admired Caitlin and Cisco, the two scientists needed to be kept in the dark. Their knowledge potentially damaging the space-time continuum always brushed against Harrison's thoughts but never alone could completely restrain him. Instead they cared about Barry Allen too little or too much. They would not understand his importance, or they would take the news of his impending death too harshly. They would accept Barry's heroic future and not push him hard enough to reach it, or they would coddle him worrying about his eventual disappearance. He could not trust the two scientists to take the right actions.

Cisco and Caitlin also cared too little or too much for Dr. Harrison Wells. Dr. Wells had led them to this moment with a vision and a spark of genius, and Dr. Wells had kept them returning after the vision he had sold them burned and crumbled. The press, the funding, and the other staff had left. They stayed. How would they react to discovering that his vision and heart had never been in the particle accelerator but rather in the energies it had released, the storm cloud the energies had produced, and the lightning bolt which had struck Barry Allen. Harrison had played his cards right to get them to fall in love with Dr. Wells; he had to continue playing that game to keep them stringed along.

Barry Allen was not fully trained because proper training takes time. Barry needed to not just accept his speed not only as beneficial but also as truly a part of him. Barry needed challenges to push him to go faster and try new things. Harrison smiled. Even meta-humans with good intentions tested Barry's limits almost enthusiastically. Meanwhile, Cisco designed and assembled equipment sophisticated enough to handle the endeavor. Caitlin spent her nights attempting to understand Barry's physiology so she could keep him safe during the day. Everyone performed their part beautifully, but even in the best of times progress moves slowly, especially when those making the progress know so little.

Harrison had chosen to place his sanctuary on the other side of the complex from the command center for another layer of privacy, and Harrison had chosen the complex's size as a monument. Barry Allen's origin, that of the whole Flash lineage, would leave its mark on Central City for years to come, and if Harrison had remembered correctly when surveying the real estate, this was the site of the first Flash museum. Harrison liked to think they had used the existing structure. No newspaper article would celebrate his role in the hero's creation, but the city's maps would remember.

Harrison took another breath and started considering what he would do. The Reverse Flash was not supposed to appear this early.

The seam of Harrison's lips tightened. Historical documentation for this portion of the Flash's history was rather sparse. A few newspaper articles mentioning a red streak in the city and bizarre accidents occurring almost without cause. A blog commenting on silly things such as miracles and inspiration. Nothing useful.

Harrison had dealt with this problem before. Almost every time a new meta-human appeared, Harrison didn't recognize them and wondered whether the team had neutralized the threat or his presence had created someone new. Worse, Harrison had received the surprise that not only had Leonard Snart acquired the cold gun sooner than Harrison had calculated but also that he had acquired it from STAR Labs. Harrison's eyes narrowed. The gun still wasn't contained.

But, all of these uncertainties shriveled in comparison to that of the Reverse Flash.

Wouldn't his appearance have left some trace, some warning, for Gideon to find? Harrison might admire the Reverse Flash's calculation, but the villain sure loved to taunt. He always left some choice word, flicker of light, or man-shaped blur, so that the Flash knew it was him.

Harrison cringed at his mistake.

The Flash _had_ seen the villain, and despite how much Harrison wanted time to prepare, that might be all the villain cared about. Harrison would have a few more queries for Gideon once he reached his sanctuary to check whether there existed some article he had overlooked or misinterpreted, but he resigned himself to the idea that there might not have been any. You can't prepare for everything.

For the moment, Harrison shifted through what he knew of the threat. The Reverse Flash had Barry's speed. He often possessed foresight and technology beyond his time, and thus he was probably a time traveler. He always had impeccable timing, so he was a skilled time traveler. Each appearance only lasted as long as it takes for the current plan to unfold, so it was unlikely that he spends more time in the present than necessary. However, his plans were well thought out and already in motion by the time he steps forward, and his plans always make Barry suffer.

Why would anyone want Barry Allen to suffer?

Harrison's eyebrows knit. He could manipulate anyone if he knew what motivated them, but the Reverse Flash had always been a mystery.

Unfortunately, the Reverse Flash's sadism towards Barry was irrefutable, and Barry had not truly suffered from his encounter with the yellow colored speedster. The young man was angry and confused but along with the pain had come a new sense of determination. He may have lost his first encounter with his mother's murderer, but he now had something tangible to work against. The Reverse Flash's work in this time and place was not done.

Harrison would have to work to ensure it remained that way. He let go of the wheelchair's controls and placed his hand against the wall. The wall sensed the speed force inside of him and knew it was his. It glowed and opened.

As Harrison pushed the chair into the sanctuary, a glint appeared in the corner of his eye.

His head snapped towards what should have been a light blue wall smooth to the exclusion of detector knobs. For a moment, Harrison would have considered himself lucky if he had forgotten to tell Gideon to sleep. He was not so lucky.

A tall man leaned against the far wall. His arms and legs casually crossed. Yellow covered his chest and head, while a burnt black covered the figure's arms and legs. A mirror image of the flash logo glinted in metallic red, and crimson lightning bolts covered the figure's ears. The figure's brown eyes held a contemptuous laugh, and underneath spread a familiar smile Harrison couldn't quite place.

Harrison's abs and legs tensed, unsure about whether to break out running or maintain the illusion. The door closed. Harrison noticed that his arms had darted back to wheelchair's sides, ready for a full speed sprint before he had stopped himself.

The man shook his head. "You are going to want the privacy, but we can drop the charade." He vibrated his voice lackadaisically and rolled his eyes.

If the Reverse Flash had found this room, he must already know. Harrison stood up. "What are you doing here?" The man tilted his head and stared at Harrison expectantly, as if Harrison should know better. He breathed in and stepped forward. The man's and Harrison's eyes matched height. "What are you doing in this time? What are you doing in this room? How did you get in here? What are you going to do to Barry Allen?" Harrison pulled his voice down to a normal volume and paused. "What are you doing here?"

"I am here to talk to you." Harrison stepped back. "Barry Allen is… important, but so in this case are you." The man looked Harrison in the eye. "How long do you think you can keep this up?"

Harrison squinted. "As long as it is necessary." He would do anything to protect Barry Allen. This stranger had made it this far. Certainly he knew that.

The man tucked his chin inward, smiled, and then looked up. "Do you know how he will react to all of this?" The man gestured outward. "The secrets. The bodies on which you build his name." A sigh. "He won't handle it well. You have already seen how he reacts to Woodward."

Harrison filed the reference to Tony Woodward away for future reference. "He won't find out."

"Won't he?"

The words played twice in Harrison's head. There should be no way, no hint for the young man to follow. He had carefully carved and solidified his history in this time period down to that night fourteen years ago. He would not have waited fourteen years just for resources because those can be acquired from his home time; he also needed the name, presence, and history only being here could provide, and it had worked. Though Joe had stumbled a little too close to the edge with his misguided accusations, Harrison had managed to subdue the man with a story. Moreover, Barry Allen would only search for a hint if he doubted Harrison, and the recent incident with Woodward illustrated the resiliency of the young man's admiration. Harrison had no reason to worry.

No reason except a sociopath who could distract him from the topic at hand.

Harrison's eyebrows lowered, and he glared. "Either tell me what you plan to do to Barry Allen or leave."

The man's head rolled back. "Or you will kill me like you did Stagg? I am not slow."

Harrison continued the glare. Fighting the Reverse Flash would be messy and difficult. Though Harrison had access to the speed force, he had had little chance over the fourteen busy preceding years to personally practice its use, let alone use it against another speedster. Worse, the nature of time travel might prevent him from winning even if he otherwise could because the Reverse Flash might be needed later. The noise and destruction from an ensuing fight might also reveal his sanctuary to the others.

He would stay still until the man in yellow forced him to move.

The man shook his head. "I am not here for Barry, at least not this time. You are important. I needed to beat him around a little to get your attention."

Harrison decided that he might as well get information on the mysterious character in front of him if he would refuse to leave. "How do you know about Tony Woodward and Simon Stagg?"

"I know a lot of things about you. For example, I mention Tony Woodward and Simon Stagg because you think no one died that night. You just stole their lives and gave them new ones. Occasionally those new ones were a tad destructive."

It was true. Very few people had died that night. The explosion had injured many people. Quite a few Central City residents went missing, and a number of those were presumed dead. But, the fallout from the explosion didn't hurt anybody, and it didn't want anybody to die. It rescued the dying with whatever it had on hand, making sure the environment saved the person instead of tearing them apart. But when the environment was an electrical tower or a blaze of searing hydrogen gas, the environment that now cared so much for the person might not be too safe for others.

Nevertheless, that had not been the best question. It focused on himself, when that was exactly what the man wanted him to do.

Then, a thought dawned on Harrison.

He was going to succeed. The broken future still remained intact; every time Harrison looked at April 25, 2024 he saw the red skies and the Flash disappearing. However, Barry Allen was living a better life because of his actions. The Reverse Flash wanted to him to doubt and to stop, but that was the last thing Harrison would do. If he pushed forward, maybe, just maybe, he could save the Flash.

He locked eyes again with the man. "Who are you?"

The man's lips twitched into an amused expression. Then, without any vibrations in his voice, the man returned, "Do you still think of yourself as Harrison Wells?"

Harrison blinked. After fourteen years of responding to the name it would be hard not to occasionally think using it. Moreover, the best lies are the ones believed by the liar.

Still, it was a lie.

A little over fourteen years ago he had tracked down a certain Harrison Wells who worked in particle physics and bore a striking resemblance to himself. He had mused that perhaps Harrison Wells was an ancestor of his, but more work needed to be done. Some of this was cosmetic, fixing slight differences in bone structure through surgery, which thankfully healed quickly. Some of this was mental, and he had stalked the boring man for days memorizing his mannerisms. Research, both digital and through the paper trail, prepared him for experiences friends might reference, even if he couldn't get all the details. Fortunately, Harrison Wells had been engrossed in work and did not have many friends beyond his lover, Tess Morgan, and his colleagues.

Once he was sure he could fool the friends long enough to move away from Maine, he had struck. A vibrating hand had cut a critical support. A flash of light on the road caused the car to swerve. A force ensured the steering wheel pointed towards a tree. The coroner confirmed Tess Morgan dead. Harrison Wells' friends excused his odd behavior with grief, and they could not persuade him against moving to Central City.

Harrison started to open his mouth to form some question or retort, but the man already had his thumb under his yellow cowl and was pushing back. Finally he might understand the man who plagued Barry Allen so.

He could not understand seeing his own face.

It was of course a lie, and one that deserved to be punished. His lips pulled back into a snarl, and a fist shot towards the stranger's head. He pulled in and relished the speed force, which he had previously pushed away. He readied his other fist to aim for the stranger's gut.

Unfortunately, the stranger was more used to fighting than he was and had recently used the actual Flash, however untrained, as a warm up. The man gently pushed his fist aside within a millisecond and moved behind him before his second punch could connect.

"I'm sorry, Eobard, but I needed you to listen to me, and you aren't exactly reacting well."

Eobard. Yes, Eobard. The name he had set aside to come back here and help the Flash. The name from the future that should not be. The name he used to remind himself of what was at stake. A name this stranger had taken and now tainted.

So, Eobard and not Harrison pivoted and rushed at the stranger, growling, "I would never hurt him!" He went as fast as he could despite the man and the other wall only being feet away. The stranger sidestepped the attack and grabbed Eobard's shoulders before he could collide with the bumpy wall. Eobard's momentum continued forward causing his feet to slide forward and Eobard to fall on his ass.

The stranger stood above him. "You needed to know where this was going, but I will not hesitate to break your legs to keep you here. Caitlin would wonder how the first injury healed. Listen."

Eobard was pulling himself upward, when a foot landed on his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. "He will find out. He will be dense, and he will not understand. It takes so much for him to learn. I'm beginning to wonder whether he was worth it." Two jabs to the shoulder blades prevented Eobard from reaching up to push the leg off of him. It returned to his chest as hard as before. "I am also here to apologize for a mistake. I discovered that I threatened Joe away from the case too close to when we had pushed him away. His suspicions will fall back on you. In my defense, it is difficult to get times right when somebody is following you backwards. Even more difficult when they are trying to prevent you from killing the ones they love. Sorry. Hopefully this will help."

The pressure disappeared from Eobard's chest, and Eobard immediately lurched forward. The stranger expected this, and suddenly an arm wrapped itself around his waist. An arm that was soon vibrating and pulling Eobard towards the wall. Out of the corner of his eye, Eobard saw the stranger's other arm pull the cowl over his face. Eobard heard a frequency whispered in his ear.

For a nanosecond, Eobard considered doing nothing. The stranger may be sick and may want him to lose faith, but the stranger wanted him alive. It would be a little act of rebellion.

Fortunately, it didn't take long for the cooler portion of Eobard's brain to prevail and remind him that if he didn't match the stranger's frequency, he would still be dead. So, reluctantly, he vibrated and let the stranger drag him across the complex and drop him in front of the team. For good measure, the stranger gave him a punch to the gut before whispering quickly in his ear, "I do all of this because it is necessary."

Red then filled Eobard's vision as a fist connected with the stranger. Eobard heard a gasp. The stranger left. With his cowl hanging over his shoulders, Barry leaned over Eobard. "Dr. Wells? You ok?" In the background, Eobard noticed Caitlin grabbing her medical supplies and Cisco heading off to find an extra wheelchair.

Dr. Wells. Yes. The name he assumed here. Harrison Wells and not Eobard let his legs go limp. He nodded. "Yes. I'm fine. He just wanted to scare me." Harrison closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts. "He seemed especially interested in you, Barry. Are you ok?"

Barry nodded. "Yeah." The young man's eyebrows knotted, and his lips turned downward as he began to prop Harrison up. His gaze turned upward. "Earlier I mentioned that he seemed familiar beyond the night mom died." Barry's eyes turned towards Harrison. "You didn't notice anything, did you?"

Harrison Wells shook his head. "I could not recognize him at all." And, for him that was the truth.

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><p>I could do the thing where I explicitly state all the theories in here and give the reasoning behind them, but that would take as long as the fic itself, so I wont. Instead, if there is a particular portion or theory you want to talk about, leave a review. In fact, leave a review anyways. I want to know what you think.<p> 


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